


children of dust & ashes

by Wrenvibes



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Burn injuries, Crying, Fire, Gen, Hugs, Lots of Crying, Near Death Experiences, Nightmares, Platonic Cuddling, Second person POV, ship crashes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:08:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23239687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrenvibes/pseuds/Wrenvibes
Summary: No one can be okay all the time, can they?(Ahsoka Tano is only 14. This isn’t addressed enough.)
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 8
Kudos: 135





	children of dust & ashes

**Author's Note:**

> title from “Dust & Ashes”  
> This is just a short one-shot I wrote.... I noticed y’all are cowards about letting Ahsoka have feelings. So.

The taste of soot blackens your tongue and coats the back of your throat as you wheeze, eyes skirting back and forth in the flames as you frantically wrench aside piece after piece of burning metal. Your fingers are numb to it, now, as you desperately search the wreckage. Anything- _anything_ , you plead silently, any sign of your master, but there is nothing. No sound but the roar of fire and the creak of metal. 

Where is the force now? The smoke in the air chokes it out of you, your head too fogged and hazy to focus on the signature of your master. You feel it, that familiar touch in the back of your mind like fingers trailing over your neck- _where?_

You close your eyes and let the sensation guide you, staggering at first but then breaking out into a sprint. Maybe he’s already out. Maybe he’ll come back in and get you, chew you out for being so reckless- of _course_ he was fine, hadn’t you listened?

Or maybe you’d find him, looking for you, and he’d sigh- drag an arm around your shoulders and rush with you toward the exit. _Force, I’ve been looking for you everywhere, Snips, let’s get out of here-_

Your thoughts freeze to a screeching halt at the sight of brown and black robes, a hand, scorched and twisted shrapnel- 

“Master?”

The force of the pain knocks you to your knees, the bond between the two of you searing with his agony. For a moment, you aren’t sure you’ll be able to get up. But you have to. Your eyes are tearing from the smoke, you can hardly see, and you know you hardly have any time before you have to get out- _you have to get him out._

You’re stumbling forward, shoving the heavy, broken pile of shrapnel and metal beams away from the unconscious ~~still, silent, unmoving~~ form of your master- he’s alive, you can sense it, but the smoke will kill him before the injuries will. 

He doesn’t reply when you pull both arms around his waist, hands shaking desperately. His face is pale and gray, you can hear the pained wheezing of his breath. His jaw is smeared with ash and soot and _blood,_ oozing from his nose, his lips _._ The sight of it sparks panic in your chest when you’re already surrounded by fire. You can’t take any more heat, but the panic smolders on. 

“Anakin- wake up, wake up, _please-_ “ Dragging him out from the wreckage takes seconds that you don’t have, and pulling his arm over your shoulder takes more. 

“Hold on- _please_ hold on, I’m going to get you out of here, okay?” He doesn’t wake up. 

He’s _heavy-_ dead weight against your shoulder, breaths shallow, and you take pains to not jar him too much as you frantically stumble, rush. You fall to a crouch, shaking and gasping with exhaustion, but you get up again seconds later- _no time,_ no time. The force is screaming at you to get out, _get out,_ you can hear the metal creaking and pulling like the movement of some ancient beast trying to rip cities apart. 

Not a second to spare, you make it through. The doorway’s light is blinding, and you hear the mechanical hiss of the lock behind you. Anakin’s weight is enough against your back and shoulder to make you collapse immediately, ears ringing. You have just enough strength left in you to make sure he doesn’t fall, but who will stop you from falling?

There’s a chatter of voices, of _something_ around you and you only catch snatches of it- 

_General Skywalker-_

_Get us out of here, he’s not stable-_

_Where’s the forcedamned med-droid, we need oxygen, stat-_

_-Both got burned, should have been more careful-_

You’re alone and wheezing on the floor, you’re trying to get up because you need to check on your _stupid kriffing master_ and you can’t leave his side, you can’t. You _can’t_ , what if he dies, what if he needs you—

“Ahsoka!”

There is a hand pressed to your cheek, a familiar strong ( _gentle_ ) arm secured around your shoulders. You sway forward and careen into the warm weight of familiar arms. Your hands reach and scrabble blindly, reaching for the hand curled around your bicep. Your fingers brush cool metal and you cling desperately, squeezing like you’re never going to let go. 

Your thumb slides over Anakin’s palm, clammy fingers brushing durasteel and circuitry. You let out a _wail,_ a sob so desperate and pained you can’t breathe with the weight of it. He doesn’t say anything, moves his flesh hand away from your cheek and slides that arm around your back too, palm anchored between your shoulder blades. You grip tightly to his shirt, nails nearly digging in. The smell of smoke is poisoning your mouth, your throat, your clothes. If you could breathe, you’d have done it by now. 

“Shhhh, shhhhh, it’s okay. It’s not real, it’s okay,” His voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it, and you want _so badly_ to believe him. “I’m right here, shhh…” You press your face to his neck, his chin resting on the top of your head. There are tears burning your eyes, dripping hot down your cheeks and on his shirt. You’re choking on every breath you take. He was _dying,_ he was injured and you weren’t there for him- what if you really hadn’t been there-

“It was just a dream, Snips. I’ve got you, it was just a dream.”


End file.
